


Fermat's Conjecture

by FluffyBeaumont



Category: Better Call Saul, Breaking Bad
Genre: Bottom Jesse Pinkman, Cuddling & Snuggling, Frottage, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Reunions, Second Chances, Sensual Play, Sensuality, Soulmates, Top Saul, Touching, naked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29278884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyBeaumont/pseuds/FluffyBeaumont
Summary: Sequel to "Rubik's Cube": Jesse has traveled all the way to Omaha to be with Saul, but Saul's no longer free to be himself. But now that Walter's dead, maybe there's a chance for them to live the lives they finally deserve.
Relationships: Jimmy McGill | Saul Goodman/Jesse Pinkman
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	Fermat's Conjecture

**Author's Note:**

> Fermat's Conjecture states that no three positive integers can satisfy a particular equation if the integer is greater than 2. For Saul and Jesse, who have both traveled so far and waited so long, nothing is greater than 2.

When Jesse opens his eyes early the next morning, he's not sure where he is. His body remembers the long trip to Omaha, just like his soul remembers the moment Saul opened the door to him, and he was finally where he'd longed to be over these many dark and lonely months, but that's about it. Slowly, he becomes aware of the gentle sleeping breath of the man beside him and he turns his head on the pillow to look at him. Asleep, Saul Goodman - Jimmy McGill - Gene Whatever-the-Hell is a different creature, more absolutely himself, a warm and pliable being who sleeps the deep and peaceful sleep of the just. He's beautiful in sleep, dark lashes lowered over pale cheeks, and the lines of tension that habitually bracket his generous mouth are gone. Jesse rolls onto his side and slowly reaches out a hand to touch, but in the last moment, Saul shifts in his sleep and the fingertips that meant to connect with his cheek make contact with his lips. He grunts quietly, mouth opening, the warm velvet of his tongue sliding against Jesse's middle finger, drawing it inside, suckling gently at first, the motion of his tongue's slick muscle a mere fluttering, the pulsebeats of a hummingbird.

"Ah." The sound escapes Jesse on a sudden puff of breath. He shifts his body in the bed as the throbbing in his groin and his belly intensifies, ripples of blood-warm arousal thrilling up and down his spine. Saul is sucking hard now, eyes still closed, and one arm reaches out to pull Jesse close to him as he opens his thighs, slotting the younger man between them, pressing hard against him so Jesse can feel his excitement. The finger slips out of his mouth.

"You have no idea how many times I dreamed about this," Saul says, his voice gravelly with sleep, eyes heavy-lidded, sensual, seductive. "Waking up with you like this. Take your clothes off."

This last directive sounds like the Saul that Jesse knows, and he is quick to obey, going up onto his knees to pull off his pajama top and toss it away, then rolling onto his back to strip completely, discarding the bottoms on the floor. He is completely naked, his skin exquisitely sensitive to Saul's presence, so that even looking at him is akin to having the lawyer kiss him all over. Jesse imagines he can feel Saul's lips on the insides of his thighs, sucking and licking at the soft skin there, tongue curling around his balls. Christ, he's so horny he could bark. "Now take mine off," Saul says. Jesse moves to where he is and levers Saul's boxers down over his hips, his swollen cock springing free. The t-shirt is next to go, slipping up and over, following the boxer shorts down to the floor. Saul groans as Jesse leans forward and licks the tip of his cock, collecting the salty pre-come on his tongue, swirling the musky taste of it into his mouth. And then he kisses Saul, long and hard and deep, is about to climb on top when Saul catches Jesse in his arms and deftly flips him onto his back, pinning him to the bed.

Saul lies on top of him, pressing the lean length of himself against Jesse, pasting their naked skins together. He doesn't move, even though Jesse wants this more than anything, wants Saul to rub against him, wants to feel their cocks sliding together, wants to open his legs and let Saul slip inside of him, claiming him, owning him. "I said I'd never hurt you." It's as if Saul can read his thoughts now. "And I meant it." He's heavier than Jesse, his weight holding the younger man in place, but it's not unpleasant. It's steadying, calming, comforting. Jesse thinks he could stay like this forever, but only because it's Saul. He can feel the press of Saul's cock against his belly and he arches up against him, rubbing him. "Wrap your legs around my waist," Saul says, but it comes out as a tortured gasp because Jesse is moving against him, rolling his hips, and they are finally doing this, making love, giving and taking pleasure with each other, warm and safe and good in Saul's bed.

Jesse is hard as iron, his cock leaking fluid as Saul rides him mercilessly, and he wraps his legs around Saul's waist, fingers digging into Saul's shoulders as he gives himself to it, lets it take him over. His inner thighs burn as Saul thrusts against him, and he wants to come _so bad_ but he's determined to hold off. He's waited so long for this, to be like this with Saul; he wants to watch his lover's face when he comes. He wants to see the completion of his desire as the orgasm takes hold, dragging him under. "Come on, baby," Jesse whispers. "I wanna see it. I need to see --"

And Saul is there, slamming against him one final time before arching his back and and coming _oh God he's coming oh fuck Christ look_ and Jesse is there, too, as the climax rips him open and he can -- finally -- give himself to it, yelling, writhing, holding onto Saul's strong shoulders and coming his brains out. So hard. So good. It goes on and on.

It's a long time before he is himself again. The world resolves around him slowly, but it doesn't frighten him this time; he's ready for it. He is lying on his back and someone -- Saul -- is sponging the cum and sweat from his body, drawing a warm washcloth over all the tender places, cleaning him. The expression of tender concentration on his face almost makes Jesse cry and he reaches out, looping an arm around Saul's neck and pulling him in until their lips meet. "I love you."

Saul grins, a strange, lopsided grin with sadness in it. "You don't have to say it, kid."

"How could I not love you?" Jesse asks. "Jesus Christ, Saul. Gene. Jimmy." His earnest declaration gives way to ardent laughter. "Whatever you want me to call you."

Saul moves away from him, but it's only to lay aside the washcloth, and then he takes Jesse into his arms, pulls the covers over them both. "My name is Jimmy McGill," he says. "But I never liked it." He strokes Jesse's cheek, long fingers lingering against his stubbled jaw. "Saul Goodman is who I am. If you're okay with it, I'd like you to call me Saul."

"Better Call Saul," Jesse says, smiling.

"We can never go back to that life," Saul reminds him. "Even if Walter's dead."

"He's dead," Jesse replies. "Hank is dead. The DEA isn't looking for us." He snuggles into Saul's embrace, head pillowed on his shoulder. "We're free. We can go where we want to go, be who we want to be."

"Who do you want to be?" Saul asks. "Where do you want to go?"

"I want to be with you," Jesse says, and, "I want to go to Alaska."

"And leave behind my palatial job at the Cinnabon?" He sounds like the old Saul when he says it, like the man Jesse knew and loved, the only one who ever gave a damn about him, the only man who looked out for Jesse's welfare, who gave him a way out when he needed it the most. "Anywhere with you, kid." He wraps his arms around Jesse, hugging him tight. "Anywhere with you."


End file.
